


Espejismo

by Misila



Category: Free!
Genre: Angst, Kinda, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 06:49:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5487707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misila/pseuds/Misila
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haruka meets him where the sea kisses the sand, where waves recoil leaving a trace of foam. He looks at Rin because it would be impossible not to, because there is fire in his eyes and blood in his hair.</p><p> </p><p>(But Rin is burning and shining like a new star in the sky, and he doesn't stop to notice Haruka.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Espejismo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dianna44](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dianna44/gifts).



> Thanks to Megan, María and Lucía, who helped me with this story and/or were my guinea pigs. Sorry for making you suffer.
> 
> And for you, my secret Santa: I guess I could have done something more light-hearted, but this was the first idea I had based on your prompt and I really enjoyed working on it. I hope you like it.

# Espejismo

 

 

 

 

 

Cold sea foam laps at his feet as the strong smell of salt makes his nose wrinkle; small creases sculpt the space between his eyebrows, though never out of disgust. He curls his toes, breathing in the familiar scent until air fills up his lungs; but his chest still feels empty.

It isn’t often that the sea looks this blue. The water is calm, so transparent he could see his reflection if it weren’t for the small waves disturbing the surface, sunlight dancing between them in a particular pattern.

And Haruka would have stared at it forever, had it not been for the unarticulated yell spreading to the sea and the sky that seems to echo within the depths of his own chest.

It only takes for him to turn his head to find who the scream belongs to. Even though he is far from the loud newcomer –Haruka is sitting on the rocks at the feet of the cliff, while the stranger stands in the middle of the crescent beach, looking ( _glaring_ ) at the ocean–, he can see him clearly; from his well-built body covered by a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt to his sharp eyes. His red, red, _red_ hair flies messily around his face, somewhat akin to a fire, but his upset expression is still evident in his furrowed brow, in his pouty lips. In his tense jaw.

(He has a bouquet of flowers in his left hand, too, though he doesn’t seem to remember it.)

Sea forgotten the moment he’s noticed the intruder, Haruka’s attention gets completely caught by him. He is a landscape himself; his body seems to tell a tale, though it doesn’t look like a happy one. Dark bags under his eyes betray long sleepless nights, and the tremor that runs through his body isn’t caused only by the sea breeze. His lower lip quivers, maybe with sadness and exhaustion, maybe with the same rage that propels his short screams and the pebbles he throws at the water, as if trying to hurt it and break the waves.

Yet –and Haruka supposes he isn’t a good person for thinking about it in a moment like that– the stranger is beautiful, in a way that not only makes Haruka want to draw him, but to also run his fingers through his body to know how those colours _feel_.

“Rin!”

Even though Haruka knows he won’t be seen unless people look at the rocks, he flinches at the deep voice, turning his whole body around to watch another person running towards the beach.

The other stranger is at least one head taller than the first one; and if the redhead is all light, he seems to be made of darkness, black hair and tanned skin and a glint of emotion shining into droopy, turquoise eyes. The boy that has come first to the beach –Rin– looks at the other too, not letting go of the pebble he has in his right hand.

“Why are you here?” Rin’s voice would have been beautiful hadn’t it been so exhausted. It has more air than sound, and it shakes more than his trembling lip.

“I heard you.” Rin’s friend –or that was what it seems– drops his gaze to the sand. “You know, the sea won’t give you anything back, no matter how much you yell at it.” He says it quickly, the way one does to avoid hurting somebody that matters.

Rin’s hands close into fists, and the tension between him and the other boy rises until Haruka can almost smell it from the rocks.

“I know,” he sighs, and there is defeat in his voice. “I just–”

“Weren’t you going to the cemetery?”

Rin lowers his head, getting tenser by the second. “I wanted to come here first,” he whispers, and his voice breaks. His friend cautiously rests his hands on his shoulders. “I thought it’d help me clear my mind…” Rin shakes his head. “You don’t understand, Sousuke. A-And everyone knows it’s–”

“Stop it,” Sousuke interrupts, almost growling. “And listen to me for once: it wasn’t your fault.”

Rin doesn’t move, and Haruka wonders why he doesn’t cry out again. He looks like he has a scream stuck in his throat.

Sousuke sighs, letting his arms fall down at his sides.

“Let’s go,” he commands, grabbing Rin by the forearm. “We can’t stay here all day; you aren’t skipping practice again.”

“I’m not swimming.”

“At least you’ll be there.”

As they walk away, Haruka draws his feet up, out of the water, curling his toes. He stands up, barely surprised that he still feels his legs, and walks on the rocks, his gaze following Rin and Sousuke until they disappear on the way that leads to a small hill.

 

 

 

 

 

Haruka sees Rin again the next day.

He didn't expect to, but he isn't surprised, either, when a red whirlwind passes him running up the same hill he climbed yesterday, not stopping by the sea, so quickly it’s obvious Rin hasn't even seen him.

However, despite how fast it happens, Haruka can tell some details that make this Rin look different than the first one he saw, even though the changes are subtle. His eyes look brighter, as if his friend had forced him to get some sleep. He isn't trembling as much as he did yesterday morning at the beach, and he has new flowers in his hand.

He still looks terribly distraught, though.

Haruka opens his mouth, raises his arm as if to grab Rin's sleeve. He wants to know who the redhead is mourning, why his eyes show so much pain, even though he knows it is not any of his business.

But Rin doesn't stop, not even for a second, and Haruka just watches him run again while he stands there, wishing he looked back at least once.

 

 

 

 

 

It has been one week since Haruka first saw Rin when he first swims with him.

It isn't like Haruka has been following him. They just happen to meet at a local pool.

Rin doesn't look any better than the other days when he walks to the starting block, his whole body trembling slightly as he looks at the water almost _scared_ , lips white and pressed into a thin line. From his spot beneath the surface, Haruka watches some of his unsuccessful attempts before he manages to put his goggles on correctly.

Yet it takes some more minutes before Rin dives in. He stands on the starting block, looking at the pool with something that seems the same kind of irrational rage he glared at the sea with the day Haruka met him blending into that strange fear that nothing can erase from his eyes.

Eventually he jumps into the water, though; it’s a fluid movement, as sharp as his features, what propels him under the surface. His stroke, despite being technically correct, looks so tense that for a second Haruka is afraid Rin’s body will break and he'll drown right there.

He starts swimming on his own lane, next to Rin’s, when the redhead is passing by his side; and the intensity of that presence alone would have been enough to shock Haruka to the point of stopping swimming altogether.

 

But he wants— no; he _needs_ to stay there.

 

 

Gliding through the water with Rin.

 

 

 

Next to Rin.

 

 

 

 

 _Ahead_ of Rin, because nobody should be liked by the water so much, even though it’s someone who tries to fight something that is welcoming him—

 

 

 

 

 

“I’ll keep swimming, and we’ll meet again.”

A soft laugh, and a kiss on his temple.

“You shouldn’t do things just for the sake of seeing me.”

Haruka snorts.

“It’s not for you.” And it’s true. He can’t commit to people wholeheartedly; he’s too selfish to do things for people other than himself.

 

 

 

 

 

After touching the pool wall, Haruka holds onto the edge with both hands so tightly his knuckles turn white. He looks around, looks for the owner of the laughs and the kisses; but he only sees Rin, already climbing out of the pool.

All he can do is getting out too and following him, almost running on wobbly legs, to demand a proper race. His mind is a mess of wishes and needs and memories he can’t quite place, but the only thing he knows for sure is that what he must do, what he _needs_ _to_ do… what sounds like the proper course of action is to keep swimming, dancing on the electrifying feeling that Rin brings into the water.

He barely listens to his own wet steps, his heart thumping loudly in his throat as he catches up with Rin on his way into the showers. Rin stops before the large mirror that covers the tiled wall, looking at his reflection, and Haruka peeks over his shoulder to see his own blue eyes staring back at him.

He then shifts his gaze towards Rin.

Rin, whose face is as pale as a corpse’s, eyes fixed on Haruka’s reflection.  He’s shaking again, harder, so intensely he has to grab on to the nearest sink. Unintelligible sounds abandon his lips as he tries to form a full sentence under Haruka’s concerned look.

“Are you–” Haruka starts.

Rin turns around until he faces him, so quickly that Haruka steps back. He stares at him, but the utter fear slowly morphs into a confusion that reflects on Haruka’s own face until—

“Who’s there?” Rin asks, weakly, looking right through him.

Haruka raises his arm, reaches towards Rin, but stops his hand a few centimetres from his face.

Rin hasn’t moved.

 

 

 

 

 

Rin breaks down only seconds after he opens his eyes.

Nobody is surprised. Nobody blames him, either; if they all are shaken up after the latest events, for Rin, who _saw_ it, who was _there_ , it must be way worse. They don’t know what Rin has gone through, exactly, but the state his sister found him in is a terrible hint.

He clings to his mother as he cries his eyes out and Gou takes his hand and squeezes it, trying to act strong; as if she wasn’t seeing the tears streaming down Kaori Matsuoka’s cheeks, as if she wasn’t a hair away from falling apart, too.

Sousuke doesn’t realise until exhaustion makes Rin fall asleep again that he hasn’t asked about the corpse.

He probably doesn’t need to remember.

 

 

 

 

 

There is a photograph at the bottom of Rin’s bag.

It features five boys, all of them around sixteen, all of them except one wearing nothing but swimsuits.

All of them smile; even the one who isn’t looking at the camera and seems annoyed by the redhead hanging on his shoulder is smiling _on the inside_ , like the shortest boy would say. He doesn’t comment anything, though; he just smiles as bright as the others as he grabs the only person who is dressed, the one who made that moment happen. The tallest one seems proud, a shy victory sign on his hand as he seems to lean closer to their apparently upset friend.

Haruka’s thumb brushes the boys’ faces, as if trying to reach his friends through the piccture.

_Rei. Nagisa. Makoto._

_Rin._

His hands tremble too much when he drops the photograph, not bothering with leaving Rin’s bag as it was before.

Haruka runs away, desperately trying to drown his thoughts in physical exertion.

 

 

 

 

 

Deep down, Haruka has known, since the moment he met Rin, since the second he heard him yell at the ocean, that his steps would eventually lead him there.

He understands now that he wasn’t just respecting Rin’s privacy by never following him to the cemetery at the top of the hill; he was avoiding what must be done.

And he’s running away now, from the memories of his friends, from the terror flooding Rin’s eyes, but knowing it doesn’t make him stop; he keeps moving forward with all his might, not getting tired despite he _knows—_

 

 

 

 

 

“Are you already tired?” Haruka manages to glare despite being out of breath and Rin walks back to where he stands. “I guess you’re actually part fish, after all. You suck on land.” He offers his hand and a warm smile.

Haruka frowns, inhales deeply and starts running again.

“I’ll order mackerel for you too!” he shouts, despite being sure Rin will shortly catch up with him.

He’s wrong.

 

 

 

 

 

It’s raining by the time Haruka reaches the top of the hill.

He stops before the iron gate, even though he doesn’t need to catch his breath; it’s not until his hair is soaked that he gathers the courage to step into the cemetery. His hand slips down the black bars when he pushes, and he wonders how Rin is able to do this every day.

 

 

 

 

 

_A flash of light as his smile vanishes—_

 

 

 

 

 

He stumbles forward, managing to regain his balance and not fall to the ground. He doesn’t know where he is headed, but he walks nonetheless, without seeing what lays before him, stepping on puddles as raindrops stream down his cheeks.

 

 

 

 

 

_Laugh turns into a terrified cry, then silence—_

 

 

 

 

 

Before him is a recent gravestone, its grey gone black by the rain. It has only two words written on it.

Haruka crouches down, draws his own name with his index finger, the cemetery lighting up as the downpour turns into a thunderstorm above him. He reads it, twice, three times, but it still doesn’t make sense, doesn’t _mean_ anything until he sees—

 

 

 

 

 

“They’re the same colour as your eyes.”

“I guess.”

“Then, I’ll give them to you for your birthday.”

A huff escapes his lips before resuming walking, trying to conceal the soft pink in his cheeks.

“You’re such a sap.”

 

 

 

 

 

Dozens of flowers lay at the feet of the gravestone; now ruined, petals plastered to the ground, their blue dulled and stained, covered by mud. Hydrangeas that must have been beautiful at some point– that Haruka _saw_ before the rain spoiled them…

…in Rin’s hand, every day he walked up the way that leads to the hill.

 

 

 

 

 

It’s strange, how much of an impact on a life the tiniest decisions have. How choosing a hobby or another influences who will be by your side years later. How letting a single person into your little world makes it bigger, brighter.

How a childish action marks the difference between a happy ending and a tragedy.

Haruka stops after crossing the street, regaining his breath while he waits for Rin. He wasn’t especially hungry, but he’s worked up an appetite thanks to the improvised race.

“You’re a cheater!” he hears Rin shout, his red hair flying around his face as he appears from a corner. He lets out a laugh as he steps on the road, clearly not noticing the speeding car.

But Haruka does see it. Haruka’s breath catches in his throat, eyes widening as the driver’s foot slams into the brake pedal and the car screeches _too late_ —

 _Don’t let Rin get hurt_ , is Haruka’s only thought as he uses whatever energy he has left to run towards him, not stopping even when bright lights blind him, pushing Rin off the road with all his strength. The world is made of stars now, twinkles piercing through the sudden night where there’s no up or down—

And then it _hurts_. It hurts so much, from his toes to his neck, lungs burning and refusing to let air in; and not even Rin’s hands on him can relieve the pain. He can’t breathe, his chest is too heavy, he doesn’t feel his limbs attached to him anymore. He opens his eyes to a terrified Rin who looks inexplicably clear despite the agony coming from the back of Haruka’s head.

Rin doesn’t look at him at first. He shouts, but Haruka doesn’t understand his words. He doesn’t understand Rin even when he’s talking to him, and he can’t even turn his head to make sure he’s—

“You… alright?” he manages to croak out.

Rin chokes back the sob Haruka can see in his eyes.

“You’re stupid… so, _so_ stupid.” And Haruka supposes his left arm hasn’t gone anywhere yet when Rin takes his hand, brushes his knuckles with his thumb one by one as if they were sitting on his living room watching a movie instead of _there_. “Listen, the ambulance is already coming. So, now… Hold on for a bit, okay?”

Haruka tries to nod, letting out a yelp and closing his eyes when something within him snaps by the movement.

“Rin,” he calls when he finds his voice, but the _stay with me_ he wants to say feels too heavy in his chest. It scares him, even with Rin’s soft touch on his cheek.

“T–They’re almost here, it’ll be alright,” Rin whispers, voice shaking. “Just a bit longer, I promise.” Haruka desperately tries to speak, but only a pained whimper leaves his lips. “Haru, hey. I’m– I’m with you.”

Haruka grips Rin’s hand tighter, not wanting to know what’s happening when the world starts drifting away from him; background noises, flashes of lights that go through his eyelids– even Rin’s voice gets weaker by the second, though he sounds like he’s crying.

Haruka wants to tell him not to, but even the pain crushing his whole body feels like a foreign concept, something he’s not a part of, something he can’t fight against. Only Rin’s hand taking his own feels real.

But it disappears, too.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

He shouldn’t have gone to the pool.

He wasn’t ready; despite Sousuke’s claims about how he’s slacking off, swimming, even if it’s just him, even if it’s a public pool, carefully chosen because it’s one of the few he’s never seen Haruka in, he can’t simply forget that now it’s just him.

He has never been more scared of the water. It wasn’t even the water itself, but Haruka– he was _there_ , swimming next to him; or at least that’s what Rin felt. And it felt so intense, so _real_ , that Rin has been about to drown. Because it’s impossible; he saw it with his own eyes, he held Haruka's hand until the end, he knows he’s—

“Hey, are you fine?”

Rin flinches before turning to Sousuke, who walks towards Rin from the other side of the corridor. He must be pale, because his best friend looks worried.

“I think so.”

“You sure?” Sousuke frowns. “Did you swim?”

Rin presses his lips together as he nods. Sousuke smiles cautiously. “Little by little,” he muses.

 _He was there, in the water and in the mirror_ , Rin wants to say. But the doctors told him he went through a big shock, that it will be a while until he’s alright again, that his mind may play tricks on him. Rin doesn’t even think there is a chance for him to stop hurting from his mere existence, but thinking he’s going mad is easier than munching over those piercing blue eyes staring at him from the mirror.

“I’m going to sleep,” he announces, not wanting to keep talking to his friend.

He doesn't want to have dinner, either.

He hates the pity in Sousuke’s eyes before he slams their shared bedroom’s door shut. He hates how everyone walks on eggshells around him, as if he was just something too fragile to protect himself, as if it was their concern what he wants.

Rin throws himself on the bottom bunk, covering his face with his forearm despite not having even switched the lights on. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to remember how to breathe properly, wishing his body stopped trembling before memories catch up with him again—

 

 

 

 

 

It has started drizzling shortly after the funeral, so most people are already at their homes. The cemetery is almost silent, almost empty; there is only one person there, refusing to take shelter despite the fever burning up his skin, so hot his tears dry up before falling down his cheeks.

He is curled up before the newest grave, face hidden in his arms as sobs shake his entire body, breaking the sounds of the storm. Cold freezes him to the bone, worsens his headache untiil he has to close his eyes. But he doesn’t leave. He doesn’t have the strength or the will.

Softs whimpers, almost unintelligible, leave Rin’s lips every now and then. There aren’t many sentences, but in his delirium he repeats them over and over, hoping this way the words will find their way into the grave.

“I’m sorry… I should- I'm so sorry.”

He doesn’t hear the steps approaching him. He doesn’t even notice the umbrella that covers him, protecting him from the rain even though he is already soaked. Not that he minds the water.

Rin only notices Sousuke’s hand on his shoulder, but not even that can make him look up.

“Rin, it’s late.” Rin shakes his head, lifting it a bit. “Let’s go home. You’ll get sick.”

“No.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Sousuke brushes Rin’s hair off his face, touches his burning forehead. “Your mother is upset enough already; don’t do this to her.”

Rin looks at him.

“But she should just be angry,” he whispers. “I should’ve–”

“Stop saying that.” And it’s Sousuke the one who sounds furious, gripping Rin's shoulder tighter. “Don’t regret it– Damn it, Rin, you’re _alive_.”

Rin closes his eyes, new tears falling from his eyelashes. “And he isn’t.”

Sousuke glances briefly at the gravestone, biting his lower lip to stop it from trembling.

“I bet he’d be glad you’re fine.”

Rin doesn’t move. "You can't know that. He's dead."

For some minutes, Sousuke just stands there, covering Rin with the umbrella, not knowing what to say to make his friend's sorrow more bearable. Then, he sits down next to Rin, resisting the urge to glare at the grave and balling his hands into fists instead.

 _Look at what you did_ , he wants to yell. _Look at what you did to him._

But he knows that would be childish.

(He is just angry because there is _nothing_ he can do, because what Rin desperately aches for is a reality that now will never happen.)

 

 

 

 

 

Rin awakens with a cry stuck in his lungs. He retches even though there’s nothing in his stomach to throw up, resting his forehead on his sweaty palms as he sits up, noticing then the quilt that covers him.

He huddles up, wrapping himself on the fabric; glances briefly at the top bunk, from where Sousuke’s loud snores can be heard. His empty stomach hurts, his head hurts and he feels nauseous from the nightmare, from the memories, from missing Haruka.

_It’s not fair._

Haruka wasn’t the reckless one. He just saved Rin, again, from his own stupidity. He didn’t deserve—

“It should have been me.”

Why doesn’t anyone say it? Everyone thinks that; Rin can see it in their eyes, even though Makoto would never say such a thing aloud, even though Nagisa and Gou hug him whenever they meet and Rei lets him hide his tears in his shoulder and pretends not to do the same thing. And they are right; who would even consider keeping _Rin_  in exchange for losing such a unique being, a prodigy, a—

 

 _Haru did_.

Rin’s hands close into fists.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever forgive Haruka for saving his life.

 

“Don’t say that.”

 

In the silence of the room, those words could have easily gotten lost, concealed by Sousuke’s snores. It would have been so _easy_ , to pretend it’s the storm raging outside the dorms, to focus on his own laboured breath instead.

But Rin raises his gaze and finds the owner of that voice leaning on his desk, staring at him. The timbre of his voice is unmistakable, but the eyes fixed on him are too blue to belong to anyone else but him. Too bright to be a part of a nightmare that has followed Rin even to wakefulness.

And Rin can only let out a terrified cry, because Haruka has been in his dreams every night since he disappeared from his life, but never _like this_ , serious and sad and _before him_ ; and Rin’s sanity is shattering with every second they stare at each other—

“Rin?”

— until Sousuke breaks the spell and switches the light on, and Rin covers his face with wobbly hands and realises he’s still screaming and bites the inside of his cheeks until his mouth tastes like blood, a sudden numbness in his legs spreading to his whole body.

“Rin, what’s wrong? A nightmare?”

But Rin doesn’t move, and he can only close his eyes and think about how scared Sousuke must be when he pulls him into an unsteady hug.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, but he’s not talking to his friend. “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault, it’s all my fault–”

Sousuke stiffens, understanding. Or believing he understands.

“For the umpteenth time, Rin, it isn’t.”

“Tell him I’m sorry. Please…”

“Tell who?”

“Haru.” Rin doesn’t dare open his eyes. “Maybe then he’ll leave, maybe–”

Sousuke’s big hands move up and down his back, awkward attempts to calm Rin down.

“It’s okay, Rin.” He hesitates. “He… Haru’s not here.”

Rin numbly nods, eyes slowly opening as he hugs Sousuke back; something solid, something he can hold onto while the remnants of his panic vanish and he can move his body again.

But when he cautiously looks over Sousuke’s shoulder, Haruka is still there, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped.

He looks as sorry as Rin feels.

 

 

 

 

 

Despite the thunderstorm that shook Iwatobi last night, the day is still cloudy, which only feeds Rin’s already apathetic mood after waking half the building up with his cries. He knows most of his schoolmates are now staring at him as if he had gone mad, wondering what happened last night, but he’s beyond the point of caring.

Maybe he’s actually losing his mind.

For the first time in weeks, though, he doesn’t delete Makoto’s text without reading it.

 _12:18_  
_From: Makoto_  
_It’s been some time since we held a joint practice, don’t you think?_

Rin wants to delete it too; he doesn’t want to see them, and especially doesn’t want to see Makoto. His phone buzzes again before he has the chance to pretend he knows nothing about his friend’s efforts to keep in contact with him, though.

 _12:20_  
_From: Gou_  
_Stop ignoring Makoto-senpai. Please. This is being already hard enough for all of us._

Rin grips his phone tighter, irrationally angry with his sister despite knowing she’s right. _Because_ he knows she’s right. Only God knows how Makoto can hold it together without the person who has been by his side for his whole life, and Rin can only guess how painful it must be for him trying to keep what is left of his friends together, even though nobody has more reasons to hate Rin than him.

But it’s agonizing enough fighting against the memories alone. Rin can’t bring himself to see an uncomplete Iwatobi Swim Club and having to pretend everything is alright when nothing is.

_But it’s only Makoto._

Rin lets out a groan and pinches the bridge of his nose, winning the tiniest of fights against his fears.

 _To: Makoto_ _  
_ _Can I drop by your house after class?_

 _Little by little_ , as Sousuke said.

 

 

 

 

 

Rin pointedly avoids looking at the old house at the top of the stairs, his stomach dropping when he resists the urge to walk the way he’s made so many times and turns right instead.

There’s nothing for him in that house now, anyway. It’s just an old, empty building.

It takes Makoto a bit to open the door; when he does, Rin can tell he’s trying his best to smile; but there’s a hollow in his gaze that doesn’t look like it’ll go away soon.

“It’s been a while.”

Rin can only nod, following him into the house.

Makoto’s bedroom is the same, though Rin didn’t really expect it to be any different. He sits on the desk chair as his friend closes the door and plops down on the bed, in front of him, and his smile falls from his face, as if it hurt him.

It probably does.

“How are you?” Rin shrugs, almost forgetting what he came for. “You look tired.”

Rin feels the sudden urge to laugh. “You too.” He intertwines his fingers together. “About the joint practice… I haven’t swum lately, but there’s always the rest of the team if you guys want to–”

“Aren’t you swimming?” Makoto interrupts, surprised.

Rin closes his hands into fists.

“No. It’s…” He hesitates for a moment. “Not yet.” He bites his lip. “I can’t.”

Makoto bites his lower lip too. “But you have to train. Aren’t you going to Australia when–?”

Rin knows Makoto has nothing but good intentions. That he truly cares about him, even though he’s not the one who should be alive. That it’s not his fault that Rin has so many feelings bottled up within him, that he feels disgusted at himself every time he remembers he is breathing.

Maybe it would be easier if Makoto hated him. If he didn’t keep the truth to himself, if he stopped pretending he doesn’t despise Rin for murdering his best friend.

Maybe then Rin wouldn’t feel like stabbing himself with every word he can’t keep inside anymore:

“And how am I supposed to do alone what he should be doing with me?!” Makoto draws back, eyes widening as Rin stands up. “Why does everyone keep telling me to swim when–? Why can’t you tell me to die too instead of being nice? Why–”

“Because I don’t want you to die.” Makoto doesn’t raise his voice; his words are barely louder than a whisper, yet they hold a sharp edge that renders Rin silent. “I’m just worried that you’ll disappear, too.”

Despite Makoto isn’t glaring, his steady stare beats Rin’s angry gaze after a few seconds. The redhead looks down, a renewed guilt gnawing at him as he sits on the chair again.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “I…” Rin looks around, searching for the right words in Makoto’s unusually cold room, but he doesn’t find them. So he tries to remember what they were talking about. “Are _you_ swimming?”

Makoto shakes his head lightly, letting the silence between them grow tenser despite the apology, until Rin can’t breathe and splutters what has been tormenting him ever since that day.

“Do you think he’s– Do you think he’d be angry?”

“Huh?”

Rin bites the inside of his cheeks, wincing at the pain from the wounds he inflicted on himself last night. “Haru. You know that– You know how it happened.”

Makoto keeps silent for minutes, but this time Rin doesn’t interrupt him. He is scared of what he might hear– scared that Makoto tells him what he, deep down, doesn’t want to know; but the answer to that question is essential and Rin knows he won’t be able to move forward until he knows it.

“I don’t think he would,” Makoto finally answers, softly; and unlike everything he’s said for the past weeks, the words sound light, true in Rin’s ears. “Haru wouldn’t do anything if he didn’t want to.” Rin looks up cautiously, surprised by Makoto’s sad smile. “Even though he didn’t think it through.”

A shiver runs down Rin’s spine at the memory, his fists clenching as he breathes through his nose to resist the urge to throw up. No matter how many times it replays in his mind; it’s always like a stab to his heart.

He tries to apologize again –and not only for his outburst–, to ask Makoto for forgiveness even though it’s not like he can fix anything– it’s not like he can bring Haruka back; but his voice gets caught in his throat when he realises Makoto isn’t alone on the bed, and a high whine comes out instead.

 _Not again_.

 _He_ ’s curled up on the mattress, next to Makoto; he stops looking through the window and turns his head towards Rin.

Makoto stands up, worried.

“Rin, what’s wrong?”

“Ha–” Rin can’t look away from Haruka. “Makoto, t-the bed–”

But he never completes that sentence. The boy who shouldn’t be there brings his index finger to his lips, a silent plead bright in his eyes—

“The bed?” Makoto turns around. “What is it?”

— and Rin is now _sure_ he’s losing his mind, but he can’t deny Haruka– or his hallucination or whatever that is– that single request.

“Nothing.”

Makoto looks from the bed to Rin, from Rin to the bed, again. Then he seems to understand. “Oh… Sousuke told Rei about it.” Rin lowers his gaze when Makoto squeezes his shoulder. “It’ll be… It’ll be fine," his friend says, though he sounds unsure.

Rin doesn’t have the strength to stop Makoto from expressing his support and good wishes. He closes his eyes, trying not to think about how it should be  _him_  the one supporting Makoto, willing Haruka to disappear when he opens them again.

Haruka is still there.

“I’ve got to go,” Rin babbles, words slurring together as he hastily stands up to get out of the room.

Makoto insists on walking him to the door, offering him an umbrella when he notices it’s about to rain. Haruka doesn’t follow them.

“Take care,” it’s all Makoto says, and looks a bit rejected when Rin shoves the umbrella back in his hands.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Rin mumbles. _You shouldn’t be so kind with me_ , he doesn’t add.

“You’re my friend too.” Makoto’s voice is serious, but carries a hint of warmth and Rin selfishly enjoys it a little. “Don’t push yourself too hard, don’t–” but he closes the door, not looking at Rin anymore.

Makoto finishes the sentence when Rin can’t reply.

“Don’t make what Haru did meaningless.”

 

 

 

 

 

He synchronizes his steps with Rin’s on the empty street, barely noticing the shy raindrops that wet his hair, darkening the intense red he –now he _knows_ , and nothing will change that– loves.

Rin walks with his head lowered, but he doesn’t seem to notice the water pooling on the pavement; it doesn’t take long for his trainers to get soaked, but he keeps stepping on the puddles, his pace steady, mechanical, the unsteadiness of his shoulders the only hint Haruka has, the only hint he needs to know there is something wrong with him.

His steps come to a halt and Haruka allows himself to enjoy the rain drenching him for a bit, looking up to the sky as he lets raindrops calm him down.

When he looks ahead again, wetting his already wet lips with his tongue, Rin has turned around.

The way he looks at Haruka makes him want to cover his eyes, his face– makes him want to run from the broken light in that look, to hide from the sadness, the fear and the disbelief darkening the features Haruka finds beautiful even now.

Rin grips his elbow with his hand, shutting himself out in a defensive gesture that leaves Haruka puzzled.

“How long will it last?”

Haruka tilts his head, not even knowing what Rin is asking.

“What are you talking about?”

Rin exhales a shaky whine. “Look, I– I don’t even know why I’m doing this, but– I get it, it’ll be a while until I get better…” He shakes his head, his gaze dropping to the ground, red strands sticking to his nose. “But seeing y– seeing _Haru_ …”

He trails off, letting out a frustrated sigh as he covers his face with his hands, pressing them to his eyes.

“I’m losing it, ain’t I?”

Haruka takes a cautious step towards Rin, barely noticing it’s raining harder.

“No.” He reaches out his arm, stopping before touching Rin, forcing himself not to. The redhead uncovers his face, letting his arms fall limply to his sides. “You’re hurting.”

Rin looks from Haruka to his outstretched arm, then to his own hand, then frowns. He looks at Haruka again, and there is nothing but a painful longing in his eyes.

His hand is shaking, fingers wet with rain and sweat when they intertwine with Haruka’s.

“What do you want?”

Haruka squeezes Rin’s hand before guiding him to the beach. There is no resistance from the redhead, only a slight hesitancy that seems to vanish every time their grip on each other tightens. Haruka walks slowly, as slowly as he can; he savours each and every second they spend moving under the rain.

They stop only a few meters away from the rocks Haruka was on when he heard Rin for the first time.

(For _that_ first time. There have been many, too many first times to count, yet Haruka remembers all of them now.)

He looks at Rin, draws with his thumb on the back of his hand. Rin stares down at the space between them, the fingers of his free hand curling and uncurling as if he didn’t know what to say. He looks like a lost child, and Haruka can’t help but brush a red lock off his face.

“I’m sorry.”

Rin looks up.

“Why?”

Haruka’s fingers slide down Rin’s cheek, falling to his shoulder, down his chest, until his arm hangs at his side.

“I’m putting you in so much pain.” He bites the inside of his lip. “I just wanted you to be alright. I… I didn’t think it through.” Rin huffs.

“You saved my life.” It looks like he’s repressing a bitter laugh. “ _I_ should be sorry. It’s like I ki–”

“No.” Haruka shakes his head. “It was an accident. And I don’t regret saving you; I never will.” He tries to remember the words he spent hours thinking about, the best way to convey what he needs to say. “But I would have liked not having to tell you like this. Everyone is sad for me.”

Rin’s face contorts in a seemingly painful way.

“What did you expect?” he whispers. “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do now, if I–”

“You want to swim,” Haruka interrupts, shaking his head slightly when Rin's lips part so he doesn't talk. “So swim. Keep swimming and win as much as you can. Don’t quit it because of me. Not again.”

Dozens of different emotions flash across Rin’s face. Disbelief, uncertainty, regret—

 _—_ _hope_.

Then, a single tear runs down his face, becoming one with the raindrop stuck on his upper lip.

“You–” he bites back a sob. “Haru, you aren’t– _Please_ , tell me you aren’t saying what I want to hear.”

“Didn’t you hear Makoto?” Haruka squeezes Rin’s hand in frustration. “He was right– He’s always right. I wouldn’t do anything without wanting it.” His grip weakens, but Rin doesn’t let go of his hand. “And I’ve never told you anything just so you feel better.”

The first lightning makes Rin wince, but that doesn’t stop him from taking Haruka’s other hand with his. Slowly, gently, as if scared of hurting him; and Haruka all but realises that this shouldn’t be happening, that Rin shouldn’t be holding a dead hand.

“You’re cold.”

Haruka lets out a shaky sigh.

“And you’re alive.”

One tear becomes two.

Rin’s eyes water over and over, and keep watering no matter how much he blinks; and soon he’s leaning on Haruka’s shoulder, hiding his face in the crook on his neck as violent shudders run through his body. Haruka lets go of his hands, hugging him close instead– attempting to comfort Rin as he falls apart in his arms, keeping the pieces of his heart together the best he can. His own tears mix with the rain as roaring thunders swallow broken sobs.

Both of them know there isn’t anything that can relieve Rin’s anguish, the same way Haruka knows this is the farewell they were denied once. So he just holds him, carving into his very soul everything about this moment.

The thunder, the rain. The shaky arms now secured around him, refusing to let go.

Rin’s warmth.

 _Rin_ _._

 

 

 

 

 

 _Thank you_ , Rin hears at some point, and he doesn’t know if he’s imagining it or if Haruka has whispered the words into his ear.

He doesn’t care.

“Stay with me,” he replies, and it’s a plea.

Rin can swear Haruka _laughs_. A quiet, almost soundless chuckle that vibrates through Rin’s skin as their embrace tightens.

“I’m here,” Haruka assures him, and Rin has never heard such a soothing lie.

 

 

 

 

 

They don’t pull back until the rain stops. Haruka wipes the last tear from Rin’s cheek, tries to step back when his face comes closer.

“Rin–”

Rin leans his forehead against Haruka’s, the feverish glint in his eyes determined.

“Please,” he mumbles against his lips. “Just once,” he begs, but it’s not necessary. Haruka is willing to lose their last competition.

He won the first one anyway.

 

 

 

 

 

It’s a good day, considering yesterday’s thunderstorm flooded every building’s ground floor in Samezuka. The students who don’t have class are helping the staff cleaning up, and Makoto finds Sousuke carrying a table outside.

“What are you doing here?” he asks from his height, making Makoto a bit nervous. He isn’t used to people being taller than him.

“Rin came to my house yesterday and he forgot his phone.”

 _And I don’t want him to fall apart from us again_. But that’s not the most immediate reason.

Sousuke lands a hand on his neck, looking aside.

“Then you’ll have to go to the room,” he mumbles. “He’s sick.”

Makoto notices Sousuke doesn’t seem to want to answer questions about the matter, so he just nods, thanks him and walks towards the dorms, his heart twisting painfully as he remembers how many times he’s been there with Haruka.

He doesn’t think it’ll ever stop hurting.

Rin’s voice when he lets Makoto in is so soft it doesn’t even sound like him. He’s sitting on his bed, leaning on a pile of pillows and surrounded by books, apparently alright; only the faint blush on his cheeks and his pink nose give his fever away. He looks calmer than yesterday –calmer than Makoto has seen him since Haruka died–, but the smile he manages to draw on his face is sincere, if also a bit stiff.

“Hey,” he greets him.

Makoto picks the phone from the pocket of his jeans, handing it to Rin.

“You forgot it at my house,” he explains. “How are you?”

Rin closes his eyes, resting his head on the wall.

“Better, I think.” But he doesn’t seem to be talking about his fever. He sighs. “We really should hold that joint practice,” he mutters, “and you should swim too.”

Makoto freezes. “I don’t– I don’t want to,” he stutters.

Rin looks at him.

“You could at least try.” He fiddles with his phone. “I… It’ll be difficult for me, too,” he admits, “but you were the one who told me. To not make what Haru did meaningless.”

Makoto fixes his gaze on the floor. He doesn’t have to swim, and Rin knows it; it’s not him the one whose future is made of medals and fame. But Rin is right, too; something within him won’t make sense until he faces a water that has never been so empty.

“I’ll try,” he relents, after some minutes thinking about it. He can’t promise anything more.

But Rin doesn’t hear him. He’s fallen asleep, spread out between his books; and Makoto smiles before walking out of the room. When he glances at Rin before closing the door, he can swear he sees locks of red hair moving, despite the window is closed. As if someone caressed it.

He breathes in the fresh scent when he gets outside. It’s the sunniest day he’s seen in a while.

 

 

 

 


End file.
